Two Faced
by Bamolition
Summary: Laurel Spencer has been alone her entire life. After spending her childhood separated from her family and the real world itself, Laurel finds her comfort zone as a wallflower. But there is always two sides to a coin. When someone gets close to seeing her dark side, Laurel does the only thing she knows how to do; hide.
1. Laurel

As the first dregs of sun usher in a new day, the lights in apartment 357 begin to flick on. Inside, the quiet playing of the radio that is never turned off is joined by the clicking of Lilo's claws on the off-white kitchen linoleum. Moments later, a women joins her dog in the kitchen, rubbing Lilo's neck and kissing her good morning. The girl and dog's morning routine ensued, water and food bowls are filled, coffee is brewed and the shower is turned on, left to warm up while yoga pants and a long sleeve knit are pulled from yesterday's clean washing pile.

By the time the pair had reached the streets, the fall sun was peering down on the city and the working morning began. Lilo lead the pair on her morning route of sniffing, marking, chasing the squirrels and greeting the pedestrians. Laurel listened intently to the activity around her, always keeping one eye her German Sheppard. It was still early but her neighbours were already up and beginning the walk to their jobs, others rushed onto the curb, using briefcases as flags to hail taxis. Laurel and Lilo rounded their block, jogging the last 20 or so feet to the entrance to their apartment building; Laurel now had to start her own day.

Precinct 16 of New York City houses an elite team of detectives, specializing in victims of sexual crimes; SVU. Like Laurel, the other members of the team were coming in. Mondays were, in every sense of the word, one of the busiest days of the week. Paperwork from cases over the weekend, overdue reports and complainants that had waited until the beginning of the week were all waiting to be processed on Mondays.

When Laurel arrived, Benson was already sitting at her desk with a small mountain of files stacked precariously on her keyboard, her mouth turned down as she squinted at glossy images of a crime scene.

"Hey, Benson," Laurel greeted, extending a soft smile at the senior officer. Benson glanced up, a fleeting smile gracing her face before looking back down at the file, mumbling a greeting absentmindedly. Laurel's smile dropped, heaving a silent sigh before booting up her computer, watching the system begin it's slow ascent into life.

15 minutes past 11, the elevator doors chimed and in strode ADA Barba, the Councillor with whom SVU worked most closely with, for good reason, too. Barba was, in many ways, more aggressive than of all the SVU detectives and could talk circles around almost every cop in the building. Like clockwork, Barba made a line for Cragan's office, extending a nod towards Benson on the way but otherwise paying no attention to the rest of the team.

Laurel didn't pay much attention, she had the utmost respect for Barba but was very much so on the backseat of his radar. On most of the team's radar, if she was honest. Since Munch left, Laurel was without a partner, and probably would be for awhile. Before that, she didn't mingle with the rest of the team a lot and now without Munch to ease her into conversations, Laurel was the precinct's wallflower. Even half the uniforms still called her Laura.

Swallowing her social issues for the time being, Laurel headed over to the interrogation rooms to watch Rollins and Tutuola interview a guy they'd picked up the night before on attempted rape. He was a Rikers employee, apparently and often cases like these caught a lot of heat. Much to her surprise, Barba was already inside, listening in with scrutinizing eyes.

"Barba, I'm surprised to see you. This seems a little low profile for you," Laurel commented, watching as his head snapped over, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing for a brief moment, before his mask of composure resumed.

"I have a vested interest," Barba replied, leaving the pair to fall into silence. Moments later, Benson appeared, asking the same thing Laurel had. Barba looked a little strained, glancing sideways at Benson. "Side bar?" He suggested, much to Benson's surprise. Laurel took it upon herself to leave the room to meet Rollins and Tutuola outside.

"Magic word," Tutuola shrugged when Laurel approached with a curious expression.

"He's an unusual perp, if you ask me," Laurel mused, following the other detectives into the break room for coffee. "He seems more open than someone who was caught trying to rape the woman carrying his child."

"Can't trust a rapist's words, Spencer," Tutuola reminded, passing her the milk bottle he'd just used for his own coffee.

"I'm going to look him up, I think, find out if he has any priors or consistent behaviour," Laurel decided, leaving Tutuola and Rollins with a smile. She knew she should probably focus on the paperwork she'd been agonizing over all morning, but if it affected Barba, Laurel wanted to help.

The detectives in SVU were coming and going through the next day, following up on leads and trying to chase down the alleged victim. Each step forward resulted in two steps back. Laurel had decided to vouch for Eddie after spending almost her entire afternoon the day before combing through his records and work schedule. The guy was clean, the only unusual aspect of his life was his volunteering for Senator Munoz. When Laurel came forward with her findings, Barba had given her a crooked smile, until Amaro turned his attention towards the Senator, and Laurel's research was forgotten.

The following day, since lunch had been and gone without so much as a thought of sustenance, Laurel decided to take a break, bringing up the screensaver on her desktop and heading for the elevator. She had her suspicions of the Senator, but trying to syphon through the tabloid stuff would take days, if not weeks. It perturbed Laurel that they were investigating a man that was so influential on the public eye. Once again, they were exposing their unit, and their ADA, to be persecuted by the people.

The precinct was only a few blocks from the DA's office and subsequently the courthouse, so Laurel decided brave the 5 minute walk to the plethora of benches and vendors outside the courthouse. Cursing to herself, Laurel rubbed her arms to rid herself of the goosebumps caused by the mid - October breeze. She had left her coat hanging on the back of her chair at the office. 30 or so people were spreading out over the steps leading to the courthouse; it seems it was break time for everyone there as well.

"Forget your coat, Detective?" Laurel turned to see Barba strolling towards her, his hands buried in the pockets in his slacks, coat billowing out behind him like a cape. Laurel smiled softly, tucking her hands underneath her arms.

"Unfortunately," Laurel replied. Barba shrugged off his own coat, offering it her. Laurel stared quizzically, eyes flitting between the coat and Barba's usual crooked smile. "Uh.. Thanks," Laurel replied, swinging the coat over her shoulders, not bothering to put her arms in the sleeves as she knew they'd be too long for her arms. She could feel the heat crawl up her neck, shading her already pink cheeks a sweet hue of crimson; such an act of chivalry was foreign for Laurel.

"Did you have any information on the case for me?" Barba asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched her accept her coffee from the vendor, dropping loose change into the woman's hand, speaking briefly with the woman, her words swept up with the wind, preventing Barba from hearing them.

"Rollins and I have a working theory, I'm sure Benson will let you know if it comes to anything," Laurel shrugged, standing by while he ordered his own coffee. Barba continued to assess Laurel, smiling slightly when she huddled into his coat for warmth. She was small, her narrow shoulders hidden among the folds of dark fabric.

"The DA is involved now, he wants me to stay on this, I appreciate anything you can give me on this," Barba explained, hoping to persuade her to give him any information, but much like the rest of their interactions, she remained at arms length.

"I'm afraid I have nothing solid for you yet, but I give you my word, you'll be the first to know when we do," Laurel replied, beginning to shrug off his coat as she saw the woman sitting his coffee on the counter for him to take.

"Hold onto the coat, Spencer, I'll pick it up when you get that information for me," Barba smiled. Laurel returned it shyly, uttering her thanks and turning to head back to the precinct. He turned to grab his coffee and give the vendor his changed. She refused, smiling down at him.

"That woman you were talking to you paid for you." Barba turned to look for Laurel, seeing only the hem of his coat as she disappeared around the corner and smiled before turning back to the courthouse.


	2. October Surpise

"Where's the fire?" Rafael asked, stepping into the conference room and joining the small collective of officers.

"There's something we need you to see," Benson sighed, sitting down next to Laurel at the table.

"Since Rosie found her chumps through social media, we figured she might have done the same with Munoz," Amaro continued for Benson, a small victory smirk adorning his lips.

"So we went online and set up an 'I Heart Alex Munoz for Mayor' page and he responded within half an hour." Rollins continued, scrolling to the top of the conversation to show her response to the ADA. Barba read the message aloud, a lilt in his voice at their honey trap. They scrolled through the messages, getting Barba up to speed on the situation.

"Come on, this can't be real," Barba entreated, disbelief colouring his tone. Laurel felt bad for him, Munoz was his oldest friend. Laurel watched the event unfold with cautious eyes. She knew Amaro was gunning for the guy, so she didn't want Barba to assume they all were.

As the photos came through, Laurel watched Barba's face fall, his forehead creasing. At this point, Laurel stood up to retrieve his borrowed coat, and met him just as he was heading for the elevators in a rush.

"Barba, here's your coat," Laurel called, jogging lightly to catch up with him. He turned to face her, no small smiles, and accepted his coat with a mumbled thanks. "I'm sorry how this turned out, Councillor, I know how much you wanted this to go the other way," Laurel offered with a hesitant smile. She barely talked the man before this case so she was unsure he'd take to her advances kindly. Barba gave her a minute smile and nod before heading to the elevator.

At her apartment, Lilo was scarpering around Laurel, wagging her tail furiously and licking at Laurel's fingers. Laurel smiled, kneeling down to let her dog say hello. "Hey, Lilo, how are you, huh?" Laurel giggled, leaning away from Lilo's accosting tongue. Five days of every week Laurel dropped Lilo down at a doggy daycare place. Laurel worked long hours and she knew it was unfair to expect her most faithful friend to sit in her apartment alone, without fresh air or a space to exercise. Every Thursday, however, Laurel waits until lunch so that she has a reason to escape the confines of the office.

"Are you ready, Lilo?" Laurel asked, standing up and holding Lilo's harness up for her to see. The black and coffee coloured dog sits, tail never ceasing to wag in pure excitement. On the walk over to daycare, Laurel pondered on the Senator. He was a player, sure, but was that all he was? A man as successful as he had to be tenacious enough to drag himself up the political ladder by tooth and claw.

Laurel arrived back at work just in time for Barba to brush past her, quickly followed by an irate Amaro. Laurel stepped off the elevator, watching the doors close in bemusement. Perhaps Amaro had finally become tired of Barba's newfound 'benefit of the doubt' attitude. Benson and Rollins seemed equally concerned, but could only shrug when Laurel sent her a questioning look.

When Amaro returned, he was quick to express his distaste at the situation, but the other detectives remained at ease. There wasn't anything to be done at that point and Benson didn't seem to be in all that much of a hurry to book the most popular candidate for mayor.

Rollins was quick to find another lead, however; another woman Munoz had been involved with who had subsequently been given an executive position at the New York Gaming Commission. Benson sighed again, glancing around the huddled team.

"Tutuola, Rollins, go check it out." Benson ordered, ignoring Amaro's put out expression. "And, uh, Spencer, why don't you go find out how Barba went."

Barba was in a sour mood. His conversation with the DA had gone exactly as expected, and he could no longer trust his oldest friend. Approaching his office, Carmen halted him with her usual sunny expression. "Detective Spencer is waiting for you in your office, Mr Barba," Carmen informed. Barba offered her a polite smile in thanks and headed to his office.

Sure enough, Laurel was there. Her back was to the door and she was staring out the window, hand idly playing with the necklace hung around her neck, over top her turtleneck. Barba let the door swing shut with a clatter and Laurel gasped, whirling around to face him. For a brief second, the pair were frozen, Laurel's eyes wide with shock, but the expression was masked and a soft smile replaced it, as if the obvious fear Barba easily recognized was never there.

"Sorry, Detective, I didn't mean to startle you," Barba apologised, watching Laurel with dubious eyes.

"No worries, I was worlds away," Laurel shook it off, stepping towards the center of the room. "We have a lead, another woman got a government job who, well, really shouldn't have."

Barba nodded, sitting down on his desk and accepting the folder Laurel offered him, images of the woman's online profile, her resume, and finally, the same woman on the cover of an adult film. He closed his eyes, willing his anger away for the moment. Laurel was extending him every courtesy she could and he appreciated her sudden loyalty to him. "I doubt you came all this way just to tell me that," Barba pointed out, opening his eyes to see Laurel standing in front of his desk, one arm across her middle, pulling her elbow into her side. Her awkward disposition perplexed him. He usually only took notice of her when she was interrogating someone and the strong, unmovable woman he'd come to recognize wasn't there.

"Benson also wanted to ask how you meeting with the DA went," Laurel explained, cautiously sitting down on the chair in front of him. Barba shrugged, looking at Laurel in earnest.

"As good as it could have. I just want this case to over," Barba admitted. For the first time, Laurel saw someone other than a loud mouth lawyer who was very good at his job.


	3. Mulloy Close Job

As the sun set on the skyline of New York, Laurel slung an arm over her dog, gripping her mug and breathing in the tendrils of steam rising from her tea in the cooling weather. It had been a long week, although every week was long at SVU. In a way, that was what Laurel liked. She liked being so busy she barely had time to think about anything else, it protected her, nursed nightmares she didn't even have to acknowledge.

Her thoughts drifted to Barba. He was out with Benson and Amaro for drinks after closing the Munoz case. The Senator hadn't hesitated in dragging the DA's office through the mud after his arraignment, Barba especially. The city was angry, especially people in The Projects, but that wasn't unusual for the SVU squad anymore. Laurel wished people paid attention to more of their lower profile cases, cases that didn't involve their favourite mayoral hopeful.

Lilo nosed at Laurel's jaw, following up with a delicate lick. They were sitting on the roof of their apartment building, watching the sun fall below the sea, a regular ritual for the two but as the weather had long since turned into icy gales and regular downpours of fat rain, Laurel spent less and less time admiring the city she so dearly loved. Giving in to the chill that was crawling up her spine, Laurel and Lilo headed back inside. Laurel had a long weekend ahead of her.

Sunday morning saw Laurel curled over her desk with squinting eyes. With Thanksgiving on the approach, Laurel was putting in as many double shifts as she could manage. It hadn't been a quiet night. Rollins, who probably clocked in the most hours of all the SVU members, was Laurel's partner and they'd spent the better part of the night acting as beat cops, moving from two domestics involving children to a woman who insisted on packing her things and hightailing it out of the apartment she shared with her husband with her infant son.

Like a machine, Rollins had downed three cups of coffee and settled in for a long morning of reports, but Laurel wasn't so resilient. 12 hours into her shift, Laurel's eyes were heavy and the urge to drop her head onto her desk was becoming harder to resist. Amaro and Tutuola had only just arrived, brewing coffee and settling in front of their own screens, having to cram all their skipped reports from the prior week before Monday. When Laurel had decided to become a cop, the stacks and stacks of paperwork hadn't been what her young mind had envisioned.

After snapping herself awake for the third time in 15 minutes, Laurel slumped into the staff room for more coffee, gazing out onto the street below. Her brow furrowed when she recognized Barba rushing up the stars of the precinct, moments before Amaro leaned around the door of the staff room.

"Benson's here. We have a problem."

Laurel followed him into the squad room where the rest of the team were already gathered, Benson at the center with a file in hand. Still gripping her mug tightly, Laurel joined them. "... we're going to get some heat from this one. The husband isn't happy and from what I've heard, he's out for blood."

Laurel picked up a copy of the file, skimming over it curiously, until her eyes landed on the victims' names. Corinne and Christian Mulloy. The mother and son she and Rollins helped only a few hours before. Laurel glanced up, her stomach dropping when she realised that Benson was already aware.

"As of now, Spencer, Rollins, you're witnesses. I want you guys in the interrogation room now, Tutuola, I want you to take their statements. Amaro and I are heading down to the crime scene, we need to figure out what happened, and fast."

Barba walked in at this point, coat slung over his arm. His face was set in a hard line as he joined the group. "He's registered a complaint against the two of you," Barba announced, nodding towards Rollins and Laurel, who shared an anxious look. "So let's make sure this is by the book."

The following interview of Rollins and Laurel were performed under the watchful eye of Barba. Laurel went first, sitting across from Tutuola and sipping at another cup of coffee. While the news of the Christians' death was a stark wake up call for Laurel, there was no denying that her sleepless night had taken its tole.

"It was fairly routine, just a close job. The couple - Corinne and her husband, ah, Ivan, I think his name was, had been arguing all night. He wouldn't let her leave with her son so she called the police," Laurel explained, trying to sound as alert as possible. Her 16th hour was nearing and she was ready for a much needed nap with Lilo. Tutuola was making notes on a yellow jotter, knowing the captain would want to review the complaints. Laurel listened to the pen scrape against the pad in deliberate strokes, trying to force her mind out of its stupor.

"Uh huh, how come you and Rollins got the job?" He looked up from his writing, offering her an understanding smile.

"She's a regular here, a couple calls from the hospital and some reports of fairly heated arguments from the neighbours. She never wanted to press charges so we just tried to stay on their case until she decided she wanted to, or we had enough evidence to prosecute without her. When we talked to her in the car she said she would, he'd been drinking every night since Thursday and beating on her," Laurel paused, trying to stifle her yawn, a gentle blush colouring her cheeks when she couldn't resist.

"Last question, you drove her to her parents' house, right?" Tutuola provided her another smile, recognizing for the first time the plum coloured bags under her eyes.

"Yeah, I think it was around 2:30, but you'll have to check my notebook on that one," Laurel replied, standing up and stretching her back, Tutuola following shortly after.

"We're all good here, you've only got another 20 or so minutes before your shift ends, you should make a point to get some sleep," Tutuola advised, opening the door and letting Laurel out.

As Rollins went in, Laurel wandered into the consultation room adjacent to the interrogation room where Barba was observing. He smiled at her in greeting, but she could see it was tense. "No one blames you two, you know," Barba informed her suddenly, staring at her intently. She locked eyes with him, something Laurel rarely did and froze momentarily. His gaze was piercing, raising the hair on the back of her neck.

"I - yeah, thanks," Laurel mumbled, silently cursing herself for stuttering so obviously. Barba chuckled, turning his attention back to Rollins and Tutuola.

"Go home, Detective. Sleep," Barba ordered her with one last sideways glance to watch her leave.


	4. Marital Complications

5 o'clock was bearing down on the SVU team when Laurel reemerged, feeling almost as tired as she did when she'd left the precinct several hours earlier. It didn't look like much had changed in that time, either.

Rollins was on call for the rest of the night, giving her some reprieve after her double shift, but Amaro was seated in front of his desk, pages from the Mulloy file strewn out in front of him. Meanwhile, Tutuola was leaning back in his seat, scrolling down what was most likely the victim's financials.

"Amaro, we're going to see the husband," Benson announced, drawing Laurel's attention to her in time to see Benson shoving her phone into her pocket, not bothering to wait for Amaro to catch up to her. The elevator dinged and the squad room fell quiet once again. On a Sunday evening, the SVU squad room was almost entirely void of cops.

Laurel sighed, a deep pit settling in her stomach when she thought about Corinne. She was a classic abuse case; being forced to become completely dependent on her abuser. Corinne had married young, barely making 20 before he put a ring on her finger, promptly dropped out of university and lost touch with the outside world. Laurel mulled over their conversation in the car and wondered if she had missed something.

It felt so unfair that Corinne's life ended just when she was turning things around for her and her son. When Christian was born, things changed for her. Corinne had a reason to fight back and resist the consuming pit she'd been forced into by her husband. That was probably how she'd ended up dead. Laurel's chair creaked as she leaned forward, reaching for the compact notebook sitting in front of her keyboard and flicking to the page she'd dedicated to the Mulloy close job. Laurel liked to take notes on her jobs. She'd sit in the car with fresh coffee or a sub and scour her brain for anything and everything she'd noticed, jotting it down for the reports that would come later. For Laurel, it was the closest to meditation she could get. The Mulloy job was no different.

"You certainly dot your I's and cross your T's, Detective," Barba commented, causing Laurel to look up, startled he'd sneaked up on her; again. Barba stood over her, hands snug inside the pockets of his methylene blue slacks. His expression was closed, but when he noticed Laurel's ambiguity, he offered a crooked smile.

"I like to be thorough," Laurel shrugged, standing up to face him. The complaint weighed heavily on her mind and she knew she was being scrutinized. "Can I help you with anything, Councillor?"

"Where's Benson? I need an update," Barba explained, the tense atmosphere shifting as he looked around the squad room, swinging around at his waist to emphasize his point.

Laurel exhaled and a tightness in her chest she hadn't realised was there released. "She's with Amaro talking to the husband."

Barba nodded thoughtfully, glancing around briefly. "Do you want to come get coffee with me, Spencer?" He asked finally, noting Laurel's surprised expression.

"Sure," Laurel replied, standing up from her desk and shrugging on her coat. She followed Barba to the elevator, watching his purposeful strides curiously.

They caught a cab to a diner where Barba seemed to frequent. The waitress knew him by his first name, a name that felt foreign in Laurel's mouth. She'd gone for coffee with him before, but never on her own and usually only when she had a profile for him.

They found a window seat and Barba leaned back against the cherry vinyl of the booth, some of the tension in his brow easing. Laurel watched his transformation curiously, suddenly realising how little she actually knew about him.

"We'll get ahead of this, you and Rollins are solid cops, everyone knows that," Barba said suddenly. Laurel took a gulp of coffee, ignoring the scalding as it slid down her throat.

"I hope so. That asshole is probably just trying to buy himself time before we get him for those murders. Christian was his son, for Christ's sake," Laurel vented, glaring down at her mug. Barba chuckled, a rich sound that Laurel hadn't heard from him before. "What?" Laurel asked, rubbing her arm and staring at him intently.

"I've never heard you swear before, you always seem so passive," Barba replied, smirking across at her. At Laurel's silence, Barba added, "It's good. The jury will be feeding from your palm."

"I'm testifying?" Laurel questioned, straightening in her seat. Barba nodded, staring her down with a stubborn glint. Laurel was always nervous about testifying

"It's you or Rollins. You're fresh face and there's not a bad word in your entire career," Barba explained, ending with his last mouthful of coffee. Before Laurel could protest, her phone buzzed.

"Spencer," Laurel answered, already having seen the caller ID.

"Spencer, hi. We have the autopsy report. We're retracing her steps now, we could use your input," Benson's voice chimed on the other end.

"I'll be there soon."

"Spencer and I dropped Corinne and Christian off around 2:15, by 2:30, we were gone and according to her mother, Corinne left less than half an hour later. We have her receipts from a bar 5 minutes away, until their closing time at 4 am," Rollins summarized to the group, studying the board with her route highlighted on a map of the city.

"ME report puts time of death between 5 and 6. We have an hour gap guys. I want to know where she was and most importantly, who she was with." Benson added at this point, her voice carrying over the quiet chatter of the squad room. Laurel pulled her elbow into her side, holding her arm across her chest and staring thoughtfully at the mess of papers on the table.

"She left her phone at her parents, but what about payphones?" Laurel asked, looking up at the team.

"Good call, Spencer. You and Amaro can follow up, check any and all payphones within a three block radius of that bar, and I want traffic cams if you find it."

"Serge, it's after 6 on a Sunday, no one is going to be leaving their dinner to get cold for some traffic cams," Rollins implored and Laurel suddenly felt tired again. Benson stared hard at the entire team, who all seemed to be thinking the same thing and sighed.

"Fine. First thing tomorrow. Let's not let this get ahead of us."

Laurel's sleep was fitful, she'd stayed up late with the TV on, wrapped in a blanket and snuggling with Lilo, her mind stuck on the case. The longer her sleep deprived mind stewed on the facts, her suspicion towards the husband, Ivan Mulloy, increased.

Laurel was awoken by the alarm on her phone at 7 the next morning and her irritation had not dissipated over the night. She showered in a rush, not bothering to deal with her unruly hair anymore than throwing it into a ponytail and grumped through the rest of her routine, paying no mind Lilo until she was halfway out the door, realising she'd forgotten to feed the German Shepard.

"Lilo, I'm sorry," Laurel sighed, burying her hands into Lilo's thick coat, who only wagged her tail happily that her own wasn't leaving just yet. Holding Lilo close, Laurel calmed herself down, pouring Lilo's biscuits and the last of her mother's meatloaf on top to sate her guilt at almost forgetting altogether.

The squad room was relatively calm when Laurel arrived, the only other squad member being Benson. She was sitting at her desk, already chasing down traffic cams. Laurel sat down at her own desk, pulling up the Mulloy file to refresh herself.

"Alright, Spencer, traffic cams are in, we have some work to do," Benson announced with a satisfied smile. Laurel only sighed, willing this case to be over.


	5. A Hard Place

"Mr Mulloy," Laurel sat down across from him in the interrogation room, making herself comfortable in the plastic chair, leaning into it and resting her foot across her knee, hoping that this man will actually see her as a cop. "It seems you weren't the only flawed person in your marriage," She slid a document across the table for him to see as she spoke, smirking at his uncertainty, maybe she wasn't such an easy target after all. In an interrogation room, Ivan Mulloy was not all he cracked up to be. He eyed Laurel cautiously, skimming over the first page of the document.

"Phone records? What is this?" He asked and Laurel could see his temper rising. She was in there alone for the sake of testing the waters. Corinne's face had been smashed in, her skull crushed as well as a cracked sternum and Christian had been suffocated. The team at SVU, along with Barba, wanted to see how easily he could be riled up and decided that Laurel, being the youngest and the smallest, should be the bait.

"They're you wife's, Mr Mulloy," Laurel replied, leaning over the table to stare him down. "Did you know who it was she always disappeared to see after you argued?" Her eyes glinted as she pointed out a recurring number on the page. "This number here, this belongs to a man named Daniel Mulloy."

The room turned to chaos at Laurel's words. In a fit, Mulloy leaped up, taking the table with him. Laurel was sent stumbling backwards, planting herself against the wall as he advanced on her, only to be slammed against the opposite wall by Amaro and Fin. He struggled, baring his teeth as he resisted the unyielding hands on his shoulders and arms. Laurel pushed herself off the wall and left the room, leaving the other two detectives to quiet the raging man.

Laurel was met by Benson at the door who held Laurel still by her arms to be examined. "Are you are alright?" Benson asked, shooting an irritated look at Barba as he approached the two women.

"I'm good, Serge," Laurel replied, tucking her button down into her pants once more. Benson stared, disbelieving for a few more moments before nodding, comforted by the soft smile Laurel offered up.

"Are you happy, Barba? He could have seriously hurt Spencer," Benson then rounded on the ADA, obviously still unhappy at their ploy for the volatile man. Barba shrugged, his eyes flitting over to Laurel for a millisecond before squaring off with Benson.

"We know he's capable of murdering his own son, and now we also know even the suggestion of his wife cheating on him with his brother is enough to make him flip a table in a police station," Barba retorted, before relaxing his demeanor and changing the subject. "This brother of his didn't waste a second in throwing him under the bus though, find out why. I'll get a warrant to search his place as well, there's nothing more than circumstantial for either of them, so find me something real."

Interrogation was something Laurel enjoyed. She'd been to all the seminars and sat through hours of interrogations during her training, subsequently leading just as many interrogations of her own, but nothing in the seminars or in the shadowing could prepare her for the emotional stress it would cause. Laurel cared, and as motivating as that could be in a case, it meant Laurel's professionalism went out the window if she interrogated someone she was convinced to be guilty for long enough for a case she emotionally invested in. As a result, Benson, Rollins and Amaro were left with the Mulloy brothers while Laurel and Fin lead the ransacking of Harry Mulloy's apartment.

Laurel tore through the drawers in his bedside tables, the faster she worked, the closer she came to putting an end to this case. In the week they'd spent investigating, she'd been interviewed by the precinct Captain twice before even being allowed to participate in the investigation, and only after the complaint against her was officially dropped. In Harry's apartment, the end was so tangible she could taste the cold beer washing down her throat and stress of being observed under a microscope rolling off her shoulders.

So caught up in her daydreams of relaxing, Laurel almost didn't glance twice at the baseball bat hanging above the queen sized bed. The wood was faded in places, the varnish having been worn off around the handle and the end of the bat. In the center was a scrawled name in black permanent marker, most likely from the original owner of the bat.

Laurel grabbed the bat off its stand, moving to the doorway to call for Fin. He appeared in the hall moments later, weaving around the forensics team who were also scouring the house. Laurel held the bat out for Fin to examine.

"You think it's good for the murder weapon?" Laurel asked, lightly swinging the bat in her hand, letting the weight of it drive the momentum. Fin nodded, taking the bat and handing it off to a CSU tech to examine.

The tech ran a black light over the bat, revealing blood stains all over it, some in the shape of fingerprints. "Right, take this back to the lab, and get a rush on it, now. I want the DNA in by the of the day," Fin ordered, holding open a bag to drop the bat into.

"Hold on, Fin. I'm going to try lift a fingerprint," Laurel paused their movements, grabbing the bat and moving out into the living room, resting it on the plastic evidence bag and rummaging through her gear. Laurel paused, giving the tech a sideways glance, "This won't compromise anything?" She checked. The last Laurel wanted was to jeopardize the case any more than she already had.

"Shouldn't do, do you have sellotape?"

Laurel nodded, retrieving a cosmetic brush, some charcoal powder and sellotape. Sprinkling the maple surface with the powder, Laurel dusted over the powder, delicately brushing away the excess. A partial print remained, which she trapped underneath a square of sellotape, peeling it back off slowly and dropping it into a small plastic dish and clasping the lid shut. The tech nodded, taking the bat and the evidence bag and heading outside towards the CSU van.

Fin eyed Laurel, pursing his lips at her little smile which only grew when Laurel saw him looking at her in suspicion. When he quirked a single eyebrow at her, Laurel laughed, a foreign sound to Fin's ears, and shrugged. "I took a forensics course when I went to university," Laurel grinned, leading the pair out to their car. It was unnerving to see Laurel so relaxed so abruptly for Fin but the truth was, in Laurel's eyes, the bat was a big win and a big step closer to closing the case.

The partial print Laurel had gotten from the bat was Harry's. If Laurel was honest, he didn't fit the profile and her money was still on Ivan, but there was no denying Harry's involvement. Harry was shedding his weight in sweat and clasping his hands in front of him until his knuckles were white, a stark contrast to the plum shading in his hands and face. Furthermore, he would only brave a glance at Laurel's stoic face after he'd scanned the room twice, and only to check to see if she'd stopped staring at him.

The man sitting opposite Laurel was a weak man, not overweight or balding like his older brother, rather, slight and meek. His dark irises stood out against the whites of his eyes, eyelids pulled back in a deer-in-the-headlights fashion. Harry didn't have the stomach to murder an infant, Laurel decided after sitting in the olive drab room for almost 5 minutes without saying a word, only scrutinizing, establishing a dominance in the conversation that would follow before even beginning it.

"Alright, Harry - can I call you Harry? You're in between a rock and a hard place, I'm afraid," Laurel was leaning into her chair, fiddling with her now empty coffee cup, digging her nail into a chip on the rim. After much persuasion, including buying the first round of drinks when the case was finished, Benson let Laurel lead the interrogation and to say Laurel was putting him through the ringer was an understatement.

"We found your fingerprints on that baseball bat above your bed. Now obviously, it's your bat, in your house, but it doesn't help that your hands must have been coated in her blood, the fingerprint itself was imprinted because you didn't clean the blood off properly. You wiped the bat down and put it back on its shelve before you cleaned your hands properly. So that's it, Harry, this is the end for you," Laurel spoke with an ease peculiar to the detective most were familiar with, her words dripping with a confidence she wore only on the rarest of occasions.

Harry, on the other hand, had begun to fall apart. His hands were shaking, violently and his lips were pursed so tightly Laurel wondered if he might tear some skin off. "I-I didn't d-do anything," Harry managed to utter out, which Laurel gave him credit for. He'd held it together longer than she'd guessed he would. Nonetheless, Laurel took her opportunity, becoming a tiger targeting a mouse as she launched forward, slamming her cup on the table and leaning over him, glowering.

"We have your fingerprints, her blood, we even have your motive, Harry. You're going to be charged and convicted with murder, and negligence of a child. You left your own nephew to die, Harry. How can live with yourself after this?" Laurel's voice rose and on the other side of the double mirror, Barba looked on with surprise, momentarily turning to shoot Benson a disturbed look. Harry had begun to cry. A few tears had slipped past and before long, the taps were opened and he was sobbing, gasping for air around the thick knot of quilt lodged in his throat.

"It was Ivan! I swear to you, it was Ivan!" He screamed out over Laurel, who had begun to read him his rights. Laurel halted, coming back to stand in front of him, shoulders still squared and face still a mask of animosity.

"So what, your solution is to blame your brother? Accuse him of killing his own wife? His own child?" Laurel asked, although her voice had calmed once again, seeing that she'd gotten where she needed to with him.

"Please! I have proof," Harry was still blubbering, but it was all Laurel needed to hear as she turned to look into observation room behind her, a haggard smile adorning her features.


End file.
